I first saw Joyce Casey at Joe and Delores Sinchak’s wedding reception; she was there with one of my college classmates, and I was there with Joan. A friend, Nick Komanowski, came over to point her out saying that she was Joe Casey’s sister. Joe had been a year ahead of me in college but we had met in a common class. We were, at that time, working for the same employer, and I knew him very well. Nick and I walked over to introduce ourselves to Joyce, and we had a brief conversation centered, mainly, on her brother. I couldn’t help but notice how attractive and pleasant she was, and I mentioned that to Joe when I saw him at work the following Monday. He told me, half jokingly, to “stay the hell away from” his sister. I didn’t see her again for at least a year after that.
It was during the following fall that the local newspaper began to run a Sunday pictorial section featuring young ladies from the area modeling clothing from one of the upscale shops. Joyce happened to be featured as one of the ‘models’. I told Joe that I had seen his attractive sister’s picture in the paper, and suggested that he “fix me up” for a date with her – I wasn’t in an exclusive relationship at that time. Joe, knowing me as he did, said, “I wouldn’t fix you up with my dog.”… we both laughed at the remark but I (although I didn’t suspect it then) would have the last laugh.
I was swimming, one warm Sunday of the following summer, with a group of friends at one of the nearby lakes when an acquaintance, whose name I don’t recall, started acting like a jerk in order to impress (or so he thought) a couple of good looking girls who were swimming a short distance away. He said something like “Hey… look at me… my name is Frank Zedik.” One of the girls said “No it isn’t”, and, pointing at me, said “he’s Frank Zedik” That girl happened to be Joyce, and when I recognized her I swam over to talk for a bit. She mentioned, as we chatted, that she usually frequented one of the downtown watering holes on Thursday nights – I made a mental note to drop in there.
We met there, sometime later, and I asked her to go out with me. I also told her about the conversation with her brother, and his not wanting to fix me up with her. As a result, we decided not to mention to Joe that we were about to go out on a date; we also agreed that I should pick her up at his house, just to see the look on his face.
Joyce spent some of the next weekend visiting with her brother, his wife, Pat, and their first born, Jeanne, who was still an infant. She told Joe that her “date” would be picking her up early Saturday evening. He asked who the date was, mentioning the names of several of her acquaintances – all she said was that it was a new guy that she had met. He never suspected a thing up to the time that I knocked on the door. Joyce was conveniently busy so Joe opened the door, did a double take, said “Son-of-a-bitch!”, and slammed the door in my face. I heard Joyce erupt with laughter as she told her brother to let me in, which he finally did.
That was the beginning of a yearlong relationship that culminated in our wedding on July 19, 1958. Joe gave his sister away at the wedding because their father was no longer living, and he spoke softly and seriously as he placed her arm in mine, saying “Take good care of her, Francis.” I did.
Our families spent a lot of time together as our children arrived and grew into young adults, and I couldn’t have asked, during all that time, for a better brother-in-law. He was a true friend who shared many a drink of Irish whiskey with me over the years. I’m sad to say that he died too young, just days short of his fifty-fifth birthday. I still miss his good humor and infectious laughter, but in a way I’m glad that he didn’t see our marriage fail some four years later.
F.A. Zedik
June 21, 2000